Page 63 of The Scars Within (Twisted Thorn #1)

We spent the entire day practicing self-defense moves—what to do if someone grabbed me, pinned me, or attacked from behind.

My body already ached, every muscle groaning in protest after hours of relentless drills.

But the progress was real. Rhodes hadn’t taken it easy on me since I caught him off guard with that fake-out gut punch.

He’d been rough, unforgiving, and downright brutal.

But I knew he was doing it for my own good.

Now, we sat on the edge of the sunken mountain plateau, legs dangling over the abyss, as we ate a late lunch that he had packed for us.

The wind whistled around us as I asked, “I agreed not to ask how you learned to fight. But can I ask why it’s so important that I do?” I locked eyes with Rhodes. “Because I sense there’s more to this than just me learning self-defense.”

Rhodes sighed, his shoulders dropping as he tilted his head back to gaze at the sky. The soft breeze tugged at his hair, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “Do you know what happens to a rider who loses their dragon?”

I searched my mind, trying to recall anything I’d read or heard, but I came up empty. My brows furrowed. “I know it’s an unbreakable vow, but other than that… no. I don’t think I do.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and his voice grew heavy.

“When a fire wielder bonds with a dragon, their magic becomes eternally tied together. A dragon can survive after losing their rider, but the reverse? Not really. If a dragon dies, it severs the Mareki’s connection to their element.

A rider is left completely powerless—without even a trace of magic.

And here, someone without magic is seen as less than a mundane. ”

I blinked, the weight of his words sinking in as he continued.

“In Mageia, if a rider loses their dragon, they’re discharged. Completely cut off from the military. No reassignment, no second chances, no purpose. Just discarded.”

Rhodes straightened his shoulders and looked back at me, his hair tossing in the wind. His steady gaze carried the weight of unspoken words, and the set of his jaw hinted at just how much they meant to him.

He isn’t just teaching me self-defense. He’s giving me a reason to survive if something ever happens to Lakota.

And that reason is... me.

I broke his gaze and tried to clear the knot in my throat. His hand was splayed on the ground next to mine, and it took everything in me not to lace my fingers with his. I’ve seen Rhodes fight like a lethal weapon—precise, calculated, and unstoppable.

Until he forced himself to be stopped by Cory.

He hid what he’s actually capable of.

But why?

The ominous weight of everything that has unfolded today screams at me that there is a deeper reason behind his actions, a truth he’s keeping hidden.

The warmth of his hand covering mine melted every ounce of trepidation from my chest. My eyes locked on his again; his beautiful gray-blue eyes sparkled in the evening light.

Rhodes broke the comfortable silence first. “Ready to go over everything we learned again? ”

I groaned, slumping my shoulders dramatically. “Again? Are you trying to kill me?”

He smirked, biting into his apple. “More like the opposite. Today is just day one.”

Day one? My stomach sank at the thought. I can’t afford to keep missing classes like I did today—I am already drowning in guilt. The idea led to my next question.

“How am I supposed to explain being absent all day?”

“I talked to all your professors this morning,” Rhodes replied casually, like it was no big deal. “Told them you’d be out for a private lesson.”

I blinked at him, stunned. “Really? And they were okay with that?”

Rhodes turned his head, one brow arching. “You just used a question. You sure you want to waste another?”

I gaped at him before shoving his shoulder lightly. “That does not count!”

He laughed, low and easy, shaking his head as his gaze dropped to the endless space below us. The warmth of the sound was contagious, making me smile.

Rhodes stood, walking back to our makeshift practice ring. “Let’s get going before the dragons return so Noemi doesn’t have to inform me of every little threat Lakota throws my way.”

I followed him, stretching my arms.

“You’ve learned a lot today,” Rhodes said, his voice calm but edged with resolve.

“And you’ve proven more to yourself than you realize.

Now, it’s time to put everything into action.

No individualized moves. No drills. I’m going to take you, and you’re not going to let me.

Your goal—” he paused, his tone dropping, “—is to disarm me.”

I stared at him for a moment before squaring my shoulders, my pride flaring.

I bolted .

Rhodes closed the distance in two strides, his hand fisting my jacket before I could react. He yanked me down hard, the impact knocking the wind clean out of me. I barely had time to register the dirt against my face before he flipped me onto my stomach in one fluid motion.

Before I could fight back, he twisted my arms behind me and hauled me upright, my back flush against his chest.

“Running won’t save you when all you have to run toward is your villain,” he murmured in my ear, his voice low and maddeningly calm. “You’re stranded. Take. Me. Down.”

I writhed against his grip, twisting my wrists toward the weakest point of his hold. “I’m ready with one of my earned questions.”

I shot my knees upward, forcing him to shift his stance to counter my weight.

He grunted, his arms tightening as he hoisted me higher, my head resting against the solid line of his collarbone.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice low, roughened by the effort.

My arms and shoulders burned from the new position he had me locked in. Every muscle screamed for relief, but I forced myself to keep my expression calm, masking the pain.

“Have you ever been in love?” I asked, my voice measured despite my muscles being on fire.

I looked up, and his gaze locked onto mine, unwavering. He leaned in closer, his voice low and edged with something I couldn’t comprehend. “She chose someone else.”

His words hung between us, heavy and raw. I bit my lip, momentarily lost in the weight of his confession.

Then, I took the opening. Without hesitation, I slammed my head backward, colliding with his face.

He dropped me, and I scrambled back, putting precious distance between us. Twisting to face him, I raised my fists. We hadn’t gone over how to fist fight, but instinct took control .

Rhodes rubbed his jaw, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’ll break your thumbs like that.”

I blinked, confused, glancing down at my fists. Before I could ask, he raised a hand—a silent truce—and then approached carefully. His fingers were firm but gentle as he readjusted my hands, tucking my thumbs safely outside my grip.

“There,” he said. Then, without warning, he knelt before me, resting his hands lightly on my hips. He turned me just slightly. “You’re right-handed. Put all your weight on your left side—set yourself up for your hardest punch.”

His hands trailed down my body to my knees, guiding them into a soft bend. When he looked up, his gray-blue eyes caught mine, a flicker of heat against the usual storm. “Knees bent. Feet planted firmly.”

I clenched my jaw, trying to focus on the adjustments instead of the heat rushing to my face from the view of Rhodes kneeling before me.

I unclenched my fists. “Now I know. What’s your favorite color?”

He stood but didn’t step back, staying just a few inches away. “Red.”

I blinked, still processing what he’d said. Of all the things he could have answered with, of all the possible colors— red . I swallowed hard, trying to fight back the confusing swirl of emotions inside me.

Rhodes has laid more cards face up today than ever before, and instead of each one revealing a part of the mystery of who he is, I’m left even more confused.

My heart races with anticipation of what he’s really saying, but there’s a nagging fear that I’m reading too far into things.

I could be nothing more than a naive, foolish girl, walking straight into a destructive storm, convinced I’ll live a thrilling romance—but knowing deep down, I may have been right about Rhodes coming with a devastating ending.

His face tilted, a predatory gleam flashing in his eyes.

In a heartbeat, one arm wrapped around my body while the other hand tightened around my neck.

He slammed us into the stone wall behind me, keeping my feet planted on the ground.

My eyes widened, caught between fear and adrenaline.

I could tell it was meant to be threatening; the power in his grip meant to intimidate, but instead, it felt charged with something else entirely.

His knee slid between my legs, lifting me off the ground as he pressed into me, the friction and his presence igniting heat within my core.

His stormy eyes bore into mine, and for the first time, I saw that look—raw, unmasked desire.

It was like he was finally claiming something he’d been holding back, something I couldn’t quite name.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and the air around us seemed to thicken.

Rhodes loosened his grip around my neck, his hand sliding to my chest, still pressing firmly enough to keep me in place.

I knew he could feel my heartbeat hammering against my chest, but I wasn’t sure if he understood the reason behind it.

I asked my final question in a breathy whisper, “Why don’t you fight for her?”

Rhodes’s eyes flicked back to mine, his body tensed. I tried to fight back a whimper from the friction his movement caused against my legs, releasing only heavy breaths. As if sensing my reaction to him, he lowered his knee, allowing my feet to touch the ground again.

Rhodes slowly released his hold on me and pressed his forearms onto the stone wall on both sides of my head. Leaning in, his body wrapped around mine and trapped me between a hard place and an unpredictable storm.

The words came quietly from his lips, heavy with emotion. “I don’t know how to.”

His admission shook me to my core. The desire to throw my arms around him and show him exactly how to fight for her roared inside me. But that slight bit of fear stomped down on my desire, extinguishing it before I could act on it.

What if I’m not his favorite shade of red?

That insecure thought felt like a knife to my chest, but I refused to let it show.

Instead, I went bold. Not breaking eye contact, I reached for the dagger at his left hip, wrapping my fingers around the hilt and pulling it free with deliberate slowness.

Rhodes didn’t fight me. He let me disarm him, his eyes gleaming with pride as he watched my hand slip the dagger into the sheath on my leathers.

I repeated the motion with the second dagger, honorably earning my weapons.

Rhodes opened his mouth as if to say something, but the thundering beats of wings in the air cut him off. He jumped backward, putting distance between us and leaving me standing there, pressed against the stone wall. My chest deflated from the absence of his warmth.

“ Did we interrupt something? ” Lakota asked.